


Unmitigated Disaster

by Banach_Tarski



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Humor, Growing Up, Humor, Moving Out, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter is 22, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), just fluff and bickering, like 5 years later, mermaid lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-05-29 18:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15079226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banach_Tarski/pseuds/Banach_Tarski
Summary: Peter Parker is no longer the absolute, unmitigated disaster of a fifteen year old he was seven years ago.Now he's a confident twenty two year old, with a job and a life and he's just about to move out of Avenger's Tower and into his own apartment. It would be easier if his fellow Avengers, Tony especially, would stop acting so weird about it.Is it too much to ask for to be treated like an adult for once in his life?





	1. Disaster Part 1

“I feel old.” Peter said.

Tony Stark gave him a look that could wither an entire field of crops.

“You.” Tony said. “You feel old.”

“Yeah,” Peter said, and flipped the web-shooter prototype over in his hands. They sat in Tony’s lab in his Tower, working away the mid-afternoon. “The kids these days, they don’t remember any of the good memes.”

“Jesus Christ.” Tony threw a stylus at him and Peter ducked out of its way without looking.

“I was talking to this teenager,” Peter continued, “he looked about twelve. Didn’t even know what a yeet was.”

Tony blinked at him, slowly and full of condescension, and if Peter hadn’t weathered that look repeatedly over the last half a decade or so he would have curled up into a ball and tried to disappear.

As it was, he pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows right back at him- a challenge.

“Please go on,” Tony said, completely flat.

“The memes nowadays, they’ve wrapped back around to being clever and sophisticated but they’ve done it too much, and this twelve year old sent me an essay about climate change in Siberia, the thing was six thousand words Tony, and he expected me to read it and tell him if I thought the decline in winter snowfall averages was relatable.”

There was a pause. “Was it, Pete?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t read the damn essay, Tony, I looked at the graphs in the Appendix to see if they made a loss meme but they didn’t, Tony, they didn’t, and I got stuck thinking, is that kid laughing at me now? Did he honestly expect me to read the whole thing so I could look at that snowfall data and exhale air out my nose slightly faster than normal? Is this what kids these days do for fun? Read essays on climate change, or convince old people to read essays on climate change?”

Tony put his tablet down on a bench with deliberate care. He steepled his fingers in front of him, gathering his thoughts.

“I can’t- I can’t do this.” Tony said at last. “Fri, am I having a stroke? Is this what having a stroke feels like?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, sir,” Friday said unhelpfully.

Tony rolled his eyes up at his ceiling, and when he finished with his dramatics he wasn’t the least bit shocked to find Peter grinning at him.

“You make it too easy, Tony,” Peter said and shook his head.

“Everything that comes out of your mouth is more incomprehensible than the last. I don’t have the brainpower to process it anymore. Can you hurry up and move out?”

“Six more days and I’ll be out of your hair. Signed the last damn bit of paperwork this morning.”

“I bet I could get around most of that red tape for you”-

-“No, Tony.” Peter said. “I have to do this _without_ your meddling”-

-“But I really, really like meddling”-

-“I know, which is why it’s taken me this long to”-

Peter cut himself off.

“Oh my God.”

“What?” Tony said, instantly sobering.

“You don’t want me to move out.”

“Nope. Wrong, double wrong, extra triple wrong with cheese on top.” Tony denied, and waggled a finger at him. “I’m looking forward to being in charge of my own lab space again”-

-“Oh? Did something happen to Dummy?”

Tony sighed.

“Where on Earth did you get such a smart mouth?”

“I learned from the best.” Peter gave Tony a brief side-hug. “Clint.”

“That’s it, I’m kicking you out of the Tower. Go live with your Aunt again, see if I care.”

“She’d be happy to have me back!” Peter said with a laugh. He placed the web-shooter on a bench, flicked some glowing schematics away with a flick of his wrist, and jumped off his chair.

“And where are you headed?” Tony asked.

“It’s almost six and I promised Bruce I’d help him cook dinner, remember?”

“No? Is Bruce teaching you how to cook?”

“If I’m going to be living all on my lonesome, I’ll need to know.”

“You can just”-

-“I know, I know, Tony, about the internet, okay?”

“Of course, kiddo.”

“Not a kid anymore!” Peter flicked a salute at him and headed towards the elevator.

“I know.” Tony said under his breath.

 

 *******

 

Dinner is kerala chilli chicken curry, which Peter liked for the alliteration. He said it a couple of times to Bruce and Friday, the brat, had played it over the speakers to let the Tower’s occupants know dinner was ready.

Almost everyone lived here, except Clint and Thor because Clint had a family and Thor was gallivanting around the universe with the Guardians and Captain Marvel. Only once in a blue moon was everyone here, and it looked like that was almost the case this week. Peter suspected it was to see him off, and he appreciated the effort.

He dodged around Wanda to pull some more pita bread out of the oven. If some smoke lingered by the kitchen island, the dinner guests were too polite to say anything.

Good thing Clint wasn’t here, then.

“Steve doesn’t do spicy,” Barnes warned Vision, “give him lots of rice.”

“Fuck you, Buck,” Steve said with a mouthful of food.

Peter held a hand over his heart.

“Captain Rogers, why, such fucking language”-

Natasha hid a smile behind her hand.

Vision dished out an extra serving of rice and dumped it on Steve’s plate.

“Why has everyone turned on me tonight?” Steve said.

“We’re giving Tony a break,” Wanda said, “If we’re too mean to him Friday messes with the hot water.”

“I don’t tell her to do that,” Tony said. “She does that out of the kindness of her cold electronic heart.”

“Which you programmed.” Friday said.

Rhodey whistled. “Friday, where are you getting that sass from?”

“I believe Peter Parker has become a bad influence on me.”

Peter placed the pita bread on the table and raised his other hand over his heart. “You sold me out, Fri? Is this because I keep calling you Fridders in private?”

“I’m using that now.” Barnes said. “Fridder’s right, Peter’s a bad influence on us. The sooner he’s out of here, the better.”

Peter pulled a face at him. “Oh you really think that? Then why did my real estate agent lose a dozen leases last month, making me wait another two weeks to move out?”

“You have no proof that was me.”

“Please,” Bruce said, “I know we can make it through one dinner without a fight starting. Come on, guys, I know we can do it.”

“This is Peter’s fault,” Sam said. “He’s the one that decided to leave the Tower and now we’re all horribly, horribly sad because we’ll never see him again”-

-“I’m still an Avenger!” Peter argued. “Excuse me for wanting my own space.”

“Is a _whole floor_ in Tony’s Tower not enough?”

“No! Ugh,” Peter sighed. “Its fine, it’s more than enough actually, but I want, I want somewhere I can stand on my own two feet, you know? And the work I do for Stark Industries more than covers a deposit, and I know there’ll be a whole bunch of problems and stuff but I also know I can handle it. I need to, to look after myself.”

“Sweetie,” Natasha said, “of course we know you can look after yourself. You’re Spiderman. But you’re not going to get a better gig anywhere else.”

“I don’t want a better gig, I want my own shitty gig! I’m going to buy some potted plants, hang a clothesline, you know.”

“No I don’t,” Tony said. “Does your apartment not come with a dryer? Or laundry access? Because I can”-

-“No, Tony, yes, I will have my own dryer. I will even have my own table, and Pepper and I are shopping for some chairs tomorrow.”

“You were going to finish the web-shooter prototype with me tomorrow.” Tony pouted.

“I will, I will after lunch. I mean, it’s chair shopping, how hard is it going to be to find some chairs to go around a table? Cavemen did it and they didn’t even have Ikea.”

“Oh,” Natasha said, “you would be surprised.”

 

 *******

 

Natasha, annoyingly enough, usually ended up being right and this case was no different. Cavemen didn’t have to deal with annoying ne'er-do-wells who stole sling rings from wizards and used them to open portals from Mariana’s Trench.

“This is not how I envisioned my Saturday morning going,” Peter said, and swung to avoid a torrent of high-pressure water.

“Were you expecting more cartoons, Spiderman?” Wanda replied, levitating fleeing civilians away from the rush of water before they could get swept away.

“I was expecting _chairs_ ,” Peter responded, “and I was okay with that. More than okay, even, I would have been _happy_ to have had chairs, did you know Pep and I never even made it to the Ikea? We had breakfast at that nice café on the corner and then all this bullshit happened. I didn’t even get to finish my frappe.”

“I’m just as surprised as anyone,” Tony said, “honestly I am, but someone has to say, can you cut the crap on the comms? This guy is making portals faster than Chell and I’d like to know when we find him.”

“Found him,” Rhodey called out. “Wait, never mind, he opened another portal somewhere else. I saw a billboard for Sennheiser before it closed, though.”

“I know where that is!” Peter said, and webbed over to the new location.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Tony said, and Peter heard his repulsors firing up over the comms. “Wait for me, kiddo.”

“Why? This isn’t one of our more challenging criminals. I’ll be half that time.”

Peter spied the wannabe wizard eyeing a set of fire-escape stairs and webbed his hands to the wall.

“Your backstory isn’t tragic enough to let you learn magic,” Peter chided, and pulled the sling ring off his fingers. “You have to have at least a level three origin story.”

“Fuck you.” The criminal spat originally.

“Buy me dinner first. I like spicy chicken larb, so get me that instead of eight hundred million litres from the world’s deepest trench.”

“It was the Tonga Trench.”

“What?”

“Second deepest trench. Not Mariana’s Trench.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been there? Because that’s where the portals open up?”

“You’ve been down the Tonga Trench?”

“Not all the way down.”

“What do you mean that’s where the portals open up?”

Tony touched down a second later next to them.

“Alright, punk. Who’d you steal the sling ring off?”

The punk shrugged. “Found it. Are you going to arrest me?”

“You tried to flood the city; of course we’re going to arrest you. Don’t know what we’re going to charge you with yet, littering? Grand theft ocean? But you are absolutely getting arrested.”

A small wave of water, about ankle high, rolled around a bend and washed against their feet. A little purple sea plant wrapped around Peter’s foot and he gently untangled it and picked it up.

“Hundreds of thousands worth of property damage is probably a good place to start. Tony, no-one was even hurt, why did you think I needed to wait for you on this?”

“He had a sling ring! Who knows how dangerous it could have gotten?”

“Right, well, you can wait here and guard the dangerous, fishy-smelling thief while I find someone from SHIELD to deal with this.” Peter shot a web at a nearby building and pulled himself up and away. “And a bowl.”

 

 *******

 

The door to the workshop closed behind Peter and Tony jumped, startled, and closed the document he’d been reading.

“Tony! Check it out,” Peter held up a small aquarium that now housed the purple sea plant. It looked much better in the water and faintly glowed. “Pepper suggested we get an actual aquarium for it and look how healthy he looks now!”

“It’s lovely, Pete,” Tony said, “but it doesn’t make up for the fact you’re two hours later than you said you’d be. I have been down here with only my thoughts for two whole hours and you know how that usually turns out.”

“Nothing’s on fire so it couldn’t have been that bad.” Peter plopped down next to him. “So Pepper and I went to Ikea but their chairs, even the really basic ones were like forty dollars and I’d already blown half my chair budget on this aquarium, so we found some chairs on craigslist instead. Happy drove us to this old lady’s house just over the river, and she let us stay for lunch and we played Rummikub and her cats kept jumping on me but anyway I got four chairs, and none of them match.”

“…Good?”

“Very good.”

“Good.”

Peter placed the aquarium on the table. “And it’s not a pot plant, but it _is_ a plant and it even matches one of the chairs so I sort of already have a theme going on.”

Peter picked up the prototype web-shooter and waved his hands so a hologram would appear. “But on to the prototype. I think we can fit an extra 35ml in…”

Peter kept talking, a mile a minute, and Tony subtly kicked a small succulent plant on the ground further under the desk, out of sight.


	2. Disaster Part 2

Maria Hill slapped a folder down in front of Peter. Peter blinked at her from the other side of the kitchen island.

“Good morning!” Peter said brightly. “Can I offer you something to drink?”

Maria glanced down at the dozens of tiny plastic cups lining the island, the jelly mix, and the bottle of whiskey. “If it wasn’t seven thirty in the morning, I’d take you up. Jelly shots?”

“I learned Barnes hasn’t had them before and the party tonight is as good a reason as any for him to try them. I’m also going to bribe him and Steve with these into helping me move tomorrow.”

“Happy to finally get out of here?”

Peter nodded. “I am _not_ going to miss the constant bickering. I don’t think I remember what silence sounds like.” He looked to his left, where in a living room Rhodey and Sam were arguing about bees. Thanks to Peter’s super hearing, he recognised it as one they’d had before. “I have heard every spider-related, hell, spider-adjacent joke they can come up with. I’m tired of it.”

Maria quirked an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure? I hear you dish it out as much as you get it.”

“Yeah but… I’m ready for some peace and quiet.”

“You sound like an old person.”

“Young but with an old soul is the look I’m going for.” Peter picked up the folder and a sling ring fell out. It was probably the one he confiscated five days ago, and he gave a questioning look to Maria.

“What’s with this?”

“I need a favour. Can you give this to Stephen Strange and ask him a couple of questions?”

“Why can’t you ask him?”

“He likes you more, and I think you’ll actually get a decent answer out of him. I need you to confirm the owner of the sling ring and ask him if mermaids exist.”

“Mermaids.”

“You heard me.”

“Alright, what’s going on? Are these connected”- Peter crossed his fingers- “or are you just getting all the Strange stuff out of the way?”

“Connected. We got the punk who almost flooded the city on Saturday to talk, and he had this wild story about mermaids and necklaces that we need confirmed.”

“He flooded the city because of a mermaid?”

“Because his girlfriend broke up with him. All the info’s in the folder.”

Peter opened the folder again and pulled out a transcribed confession, a bunch of paperwork, and a few printouts of social media posts. The display picture depicted the punk in a fedora.

“This is…” Peter said as he skimmed over the documents, “wow. It took you guys five days to get a confession out of him?”

“The wheels of bureaucracy turn slowly. He opened up like a present on Christmas day once we had an agent in the room with him. Will you help me?”

“Of course, but you’d better tell Pepper why I’ll be late for work.”

“She already knows. See you tonight, Pete.”

“See you then.”

 

 *******

 

“He said the sling ring belonged to his… paleoceanographer.” Peter said slowly to Stephen Strange, “She studied the history of the oceans and he was a student of hers. Her name was Kathy Crawford.”

Strange flipped through a leather bound book. “My records state she studied the mystic arts until a decade ago. It’s not too common for past students to keep their sling rings, but not unheard of.”

“She told him that on one of her expeditions, she’d made contact with a mermaid and the mermaid told her to visit her in the Tanga Trench. So the oceanographer and our punk,” Peter flipped through the files, “Richard McWilliam, got a grant, and headed down there to meet the mermaid. I don’t think that’s why they asked to get the expedition funded, but I’ve heard of weirder things getting approved.”

“I’m right here, you know.” Tony said. “Are you talking about _my_ grants?”

“Yes, Tony.” Peter replied. He tossed the sling ring to Strange, who pocketed it.

“Speaking of you, Stark,” Strange said, “Why exactly are you here again?”

“He’s hovering,” Peter explained. “Hasn’t left me alone all week.”

“I’m not hovering!” Tony said. “I’m here for moral support. Keep going, Pete.”

Peter sighed. “They went a good 3000 feet down and stopped when Crawford claimed to hear a voice. Told her to find a specific necklace and bring it to her. McWilliam didn’t hear a thing. Anyway, turns out that necklace was an artefact on display at their headquarters. So, Crawford stole it and headed back down.”

“Do you think we’re dealing with a siren, then,” Tony said, “Strange?”

Strange shook his head. “I’ve met a mermaid once before, this sounds like one.”

“Of course you have.” Peter muttered under his breath.

“No fancy mind magic?” Tony asked.

“It’s possible,” Strange replied, “but what would you do if a beautiful magical lady asked you to do something for her?”

“Ah,” Peter said, “so Crawford was a lesbian then?”

“Not necessarily.”

“But it would explain a lot.”

“Yes.”

“So she stole the necklace…” Tony prompted.

“Yeah.” Peter passed a picture of it to Strange. “But she can’t deliver it in a little submarine, so she takes her student scuba diving over the trench, puts on her sling ring, and opens a portal to the bottom of the Trench.”

Tony sucked in air through his teeth. “I can’t imagine that went well.”

Strange tutted. “She should have known better.”

“She should have,” Peter agreed, “but… hot mermaid. McWilliam then said there were a couple of shockwaves, a blast of heat and light, and then he saw a few pieces of Crawford’s scuba suit float past. He saw the sling ring on a rocky outcrop, snatched it up, and then reported her death as a scuba accident.”

“And the necklace?” Tony asked.

“He didn’t see where it went. Probably fell to the bottom of the Trench.”

“That’s not good,” Strange said. He held up another leather bound book, one that Peter didn’t see him retrieve, and inside was a decent drawing of the necklace. “That necklace is the _Necklace of Napaeae_. It contains powerful magic.”

“Of course it does.” Tony said. “Have I ever mentioned to you how much I hate magic?”

“Tony, please, you do that every time we come here.” Peter said. “Stephen, is it dangerous?”

“It’s the necklace of the wood nymphs. If worn by a mermaid, it might let her walk on land and speak human languages.”

“That doesn’t sound _too_ dangerous. Maybe she just wanted to live on land with Crawford? I bet they’d have made a cute couple.”

Tony pulled out his phone. “I’ll tell SHIELD to keep an eye out for hot, naked, and probably gay fish women emerging from the ocean.”

“I don’t know why she’d still want to, since Crawford wouldn’t be waiting for her.” Peter picked idly at a bit of flaking varnish on an old chair next to him. Strange’s cloak made an abrupt movement towards him and he quickly lowered his hand. “Here’s what makes zero sense to me: Why did she bring McWillam with her? Why not go alone?”

“I don’t know,” Strange said, and with a wave of his hand the books disappeared. His cloak’s collar flicked at the air. “But I have an important appointment in fifteen minutes, so if there’s anything else you need…”

“We’ll come visit again.” Peter assured him. “Will we see you at the party tonight?”

“Unfortunately I already made plans.” Strange said. “That does remind me, though; I did still get you a housewarming gift.”

Strange held up his own sling ring and a disc of light appeared just above head height. A pile of old, musty books fell out of the sky and landed in a neat heap on the floor.

“A great collection to start a library, if I say so myself.” Strange pointed at specific tomes. “Books on aliens, the Nine Realms, and one _Introduction to Magical Manipulation_.”

“Thanks, Stephen.” Peter said brightly.

“And if you accidentally burn your new place down, you’re always welcome to stay here in the Sanctum.”

Tony bristled. “Except he won’t need to because there will always be a level for him in the Tower. And shame on you, Strange, for trying to fill his head with magic, especially while he’s still so young and impressionable.”

“ _Tony_.”

“I’m still trying to fill his head with logic and good business practices and that’s difficult enough. Already half the stuff he says is gibberish and I can’t have you ruin the other half.”

“ _Toooonyyyyy_.” Peter sing-songed, and pressed an armful of books into his hands. “Thank you again, Stephen, I can’t wait to read all of these and instantly become a magician and renounce the scientific method.”

“The Sanctum is always here if you need it.” Stephen said with a smile.

 

 *******

 

The party was a quiet one, compared with the Tower’s long history of celebrations. There was no live music, no wild party guests, and distinct lack of drunken shenanigans for Friday to try and remove from YouTube the next morning. There was, however, an open bar and a table laden with every board game under the sun. Aunt May and Natasha picked through them, and Peter heard them exchanging embarrassing stories from past games.

“Yo, Pete,” MJ snapped her fingers at him. Peter passed her another jelly shot.

“I wouldn’t… have too many more of these.” Peter said.

“Why not?”

“I made them for Barnes, who’s like Steve when it comes to alcohol.”

“You put Asgardian mead in these? I thought they couldn’t make that anymore.”

“Not the mead, no. But Thor gave me about twelve bottles of fine Asgardian whiskey for my twenty first, which they absolutely can still distil. They keep the whole process real secret. Thor wouldn’t even tell Tony what planet they get the grains from.”

“That’s wild. I’m drinking alien whiskey.” She quirked an eyebrow. “But it’s not the craziest thing I’ve heard tonight.”

“Really?”

“I’ve been talking to Maria. Can’t believe you fought a guy named Dick McDick.”

Peter spat out his drink.

“Peter!” Clint called out from the doorway. He was holding a black bag with a little bow on it. “My second favourite spider!”

“Awww, gross,” Peter said, and gave Clint a hug. “Fridders, who let this smelly old farmer into the Tower?”

Clint laughed. “The day Tony and his robot army design a security system that can stop me is the day I can finally, fully retire.”

“They leave the motion sensors out of the vents on purpose, you know.”

“Do you think my knees are still good enough to be crawling around in those dirty things? So old fashioned and unoriginal, Parker, you wound me.” Clint passed the bag to him. “Got you something, squirt.”

“You didn’t have to,” Peter protested.

“I know, that’s why it’s called a gift and not a forced item transferral or something. I don’t know. Maybe that’s what up and hip with the kids these days.”

Inside the bag was a bunch of stuff Peter hadn’t thought to buy for tomorrow- bin bags, sponges, place mats, fabric softener, batteries, even a miniature fire extinguisher.

“I don’t think I bought any of these for tomorrow- how did you know?”

Clint shrugged. “It’s basically a list of things I forgot the first time I moved into a real house.”

“Thank you. This is really thoughtful, Clint.”

“Hey, man. This is a big change. You’re not gonna get left high and dry, you know?”

“If it all goes to shit I can still crash on your couch, right?”

“Of course. But you won’t need to,” Clint said, “because I know Peter Parker can handle it.”

“Hey Squawk-guy,” Natasha called out. She held up a deck of cards. “Test your poker face?”

 

 *******

 

When the evening wound down and people trickled down the stairs to their rooms, Peter began collecting discarded glassware and fallen game pieces. There was a new pile of games underneath the table, one with a sheet of paper over them with “forbidden games” written on it in Tony’s handwriting. It included Monopoly, Cluedo, chess, three-way chess, and every edition Tony owned of Trivial Pursuit, except for the one that came out in 2020.

Ned ate a cherry from a bowl on the kitchen island and threw the stem into a bin. “I’m so glad you got Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes to help you move. You’re my best friend and I love you, but I would rather die than move all those boxes. I would bet my entire left butt cheek the elevator will be broken.”

“I know right? The elevator’s never broken here.” Peter complained.

“There’s something wrong with you.”

“I agree with you, wholeheartedly, but I doubt it has anything to do with broken elevators.”

Ned threw the cherry pip at Peter and he dodged and stumbled over an ottoman.

“I’m not going to have a problem with the boxes,” Peter said, laughing a little, “I need those two to look for weak points, defensible positions, that sort of stuff. Choke points I can use to slow down attackers, blind spots.” He put the glassware in the dishwasher.

“You know where you don’t need to do stuff like that? Here, in the Tower. I don’t get it. You have such a good set-up here, why do you want to move out?”

A glass rattled loudly against the others in the dishwasher and Peter jumped a little at the noise, and rearranged them more carefully. “Because, maybe, I want to do all that Real Adult stuff, you know? Pay bills, forget to turn the oven on, burn pasta, flood the bathroom. I want to do all that and handle it myself. To prove I can.” Peter mumbled that last part under his breath.

“That sounds dumb. If I had the option to not pay rent and have an AI in the ceiling tell me when I needed to stir my pasta, I’d take it.”

“If you want an AI so bad, go build your own. I don’t know anyone else our age more capable.”

“It’s on my list. We still on for pizza and Star Wars tomorrow night at your new place?”

“Homemade pizza.” Peter confirmed. “I know how to make it from scratch now.”

“Awesome. I’m gonna head home and get some sleep now, it’s getting late. See you tomorrow?”

“See you then, Ned.”

Peter showed him to the elevator then headed back to the main area. He stopped walking when he heard Pepper’s voice loud and clear from the balcony.

“There’s nothing stopping you from, and here’s a wild idea, picking up the phone and calling him to make sure he’s okay?”

“I haven’t touched a physical phone in four years and I’m not about to break that streak”-

-“It’s an expression, Tony”-

-“And I’m not going to be able to get Friday to check on him and make sure he’s sleeping”-

-“Tony”-

-“What if he poisons himself, or there’s a gas leak, or”-

-“Shhh.” There was a pause. “He’ll do the same thing he’s always done, which is either come home to you, or rely on his extensive help network, or he’ll fix it himself. He’ll be _fine,_ Tony.”

Tony sighed. “I know, I know. But I’m going to miss having him here all the time. We won’t get to see him as often.”

“I’m sure you can make up some excuses to get him to visit. And do you think the team is going to let him eat dinner sadly by himself just when he’s gotten good at cooking? Absolutely not. We’ll be over there all the time, or he’ll come here for dinner, and we’ll make it work.”

There was a longer pause, then, and Peter almost walked away but Pepper spoke again.

“If you asked him to, you know, he’d stay.”

“He would, and that’s exactly why I can’t. Everyone has to leave the nest at some point, and May got that, and now I have to as well. I’ve got to let Peter make his own choices.”

The conversation drifted away into memories and stories about Tony’s parents, so Peter let them be and wandered down to his floor for the last time.

 

*******

 

“Are you sure that’s everything?” Steve said.

Peter looked around the loft. There were half a dozen boxes on the floor, and he mentally checked off the contents of each one. “Yeah, I think so. This is just my stuff, the lab stuff will be coming next week.”

Barnes carefully placed a ratty old armchair in a corner, away from the line of sight of a building outside. A few wisps of dust escaped the cushions as it settled. “I think this chair is older than Steve.”

Steve flipped him off.

“The important thing is that it was free,” Peter said, and gave it a cautious pat.

“The oldest thing in this building,” Steve said, “is still you, Bucky.”

“Do you want to take this outside, punk?”

“Do you want to be the oldest thing on the _block_ instead?”

“ _Savage,_ ” Peter whispered to himself.

“Peter,” Barnes said, “look at how rude Steven Rogers is, a guest, in your abode. You should kick him out.”

“I should kick both of you out before my _abode_ gets trashed.”

“Come on,” Steve said to Barnes, “we should let Pete get used to his new place. Did you put Tony’s panic buttons in the right places?”

“Yessir,” Barnes replied. “One under the table, bathroom cabinet, and behind Peter’s headboard.”

Tony’s housewarming gift to Peter was a couple of secret panic buttons, designed to contact the Tower in an emergency. They also detected excessive heat, poisonous gasses, and activated with a touch or a keyword. If he was being honest, Peter felt like Tony was watching over his new home in a way, and it was reassuring. To Steve and Bucky, he’d rolled his eyes and complained about Tony’s well intended paranoia.

Tony had teared up when he explained how they worked and how to activate them, right as Peter was leaving. Much as Tony would deny it to his dying day.

“I should get a head start unpacking the kitchen,” Peter said, “Ned and MJ are coming over in a few hours and I promised them homemade pizza.”

“We’ll leave you to it.” Steven said.

The pair said their goodbyes, promised to visit soon, and left the apartment. Peter stayed near the entrance and waited until their argument about who would drive back faded away. Then he took a deep breath.

Finally, no more bickering. No more arguing, and spider puns and jokes about millennials.

It was exactly what Peter wanted.

“I’ve made a terrible mistake.” Peter told the aquarium with the purple sea plant, which glowed and swirled in the water as a reply.


	3. Disaster Part 3

Peter gently screwed the back panel of the microwave into place and tossed the screwdriver in the air. “I’m just as surprised as you, Pepper,” he deftly caught it, “but I haven’t used the fire extinguisher once.”

Pepper’s voice carried easily from Peter’s speakers. “Funnily enough, there have been four fires in Tony’s lab this week. _Four_ , which is double the usual amount.”

“Well you can’t blame me for those,” Peter placed the microwave back where it belonged.

“Really? You can’t think of any non-Peter-related reasons as to why Tony’s trying to burn his lab to the ground?”

“…Insurance money?”

Pepper sighed.

“I’m going to take a stab in the dark here, Peter, and say he misses having you around all the time. You’re still coming to dinner tonight, right?”

“Of course, Pep.”

“Would you mind swinging by Tony’s lab after dinner? I know you have that presentation on Wednesday for Stark Industries”-

-“Which you asked me to give, by the way”-

-“and the R&D department will be happy to hear it, but do you think you could spare some time anyway? Surely some of my organisation skills have rubbed off on you somewhere down the track”-

-“I already said yes, Pepper, of course I can make time for Tony.” Peter paused for a moment. “And was that a spider-related pun I heard? Swinging by Tony’s lab? I’m ashamed, Pep. I thought you knew better.”

Peter could hear Pepper’s smile in her voice. “You know, sometimes you sound just like Tony when you say things like that.”

Peter smiled as well and ducked his head into his chest, even though he knew Pepper couldn’t see him. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”

“Ask Tony when you see him tonight. Six thirty on the dot, okay?”

“I’ll be there. And I’m bringing crème brûlées.” Peter promised. “I have to show off my cooking skills.”

“If they taste as good as that chocolate mousse you brought a few days ago, you’re more than welcome.”

 

 *******

 

Dinner was just the same as any before he moved out- lots of name calling and subtle digs at each other, jabs and pokes and stolen bread rolls. Peter couldn’t stop grinning the entire night, even when everyone (Barnes’ fault) called him _Mr Parker_ and tried to shake his hand and ask him about stocks, the stock market, Mr Parker, how are your stocks, and Peter only wanted to set the dining room table on fire a little bit.

Pepper ruffled his hair, handed him the butane torch, and steered him towards his brûlées, which were much more accommodating to being set alight.

The only thing that could have improved dinner would have been Tony coming out of the workshop and joining them, but Peter knew better than most how completely he got wrapped up in his work. Peter had to let himself into the workshop, mainly because refusing to open doors for him was Friday’s way of getting back at him, and partly because Tony was too busy yelling at Dummy and stamping out a smouldering pile of empty pizza boxes to grant him access.

“This is the _exact_ opposite of what I asked you to do,” Tony said, “this was _wilful_ disobedience, because I know you know better, you used to be _great_ at putting out anything that even remotely looked flammable”- Tony paused to wipe his sooty foot on an unburnt box- “I never should have promoted you to Head of Fire Control”-

-“He misses delegating his responsibilities to me.” Peter said.

Tony jumped and rammed his hip into a counter, cursed, and faced Peter with a fake frown.

“Friday, I can’t believe you let a stranger into my lab,” Tony rubbed at his hip, “an assassin, a very old, very mature assassin who scared the living daylights”-

Peter rolled his eyes and Tony’s eyes crinkled, unable to hold his frown.

“What are you even doing down here?” Peter asked.

“Debugging.”

Peter’s eyes flashed down to the still-smouldering boxes and back to Tony.

“I can absolutely pin that fire on Dummy. He was meant to be _preventing_ fires while I innocently typed away at the”-

Peter pursed his lips.

“Don’t give me that look,” Tony said, “when did Pepper teach you that look and how can you make it look even more disappointed in me than hers”-

-“What were you innocently typing away at that needed fire prevention?”

“…A fire… _prevention_ … program for Barnes’ arm?”

“Why are you worried his metal arm is going to catch on fire?”

“Because I reckon Barnes will want a mini one of those in there.” Tony gestured to Dummy, who had something that looked remarkably like a flamethrower in his grip, and he looked ready to use it. Again. “Once I get it small enough, of course. The flamethrower Mark II is ready for testing, as Dummy has proved.”

“You’re going to put a flamethrower in Barnes’ arm?” Peter paused. “And you didn’t ask me to help?”

“Thought you might be too busy,” Tony said slowly, “Pepper might’ve mentioned a presentation on Wednesday, and you’re still unpacking and I didn’t want to be a”- Tony waved a hand around- “But if you’re not too busy and important now to be my assistant again”-

-“You mean Dummy’s assistant,” Peter nudged Tony and pointed, “he’s the one waving the flamethrower prototype around, he’s in charge.”

“Do you want to distract him and I’ll try to get it off him?”

“This counts as staging a coup, right? Of course I’m in.”

“I also want to point out,” Tony said as he circled behind Dummy, “I actually was in the middle of writing a program to stop fires spreading through Barnes’ arm when Dummy got bored.”

“I’ll help you debug if I can take Dummy’s place as head of the workshop again.”

“Deal.”

 

 *******

 

The hours passed quickly. Eventually Tony straightened up and cracked his back.

“It’s getting pretty late, well, early, so if you want to crash here for the night…?”

Peter looked up from the Flamethrower Mark III and frowned. “But we’re not done yet. Why do we need to stop?”

“As much as I hate to remind anyone,” Tony pointed at his greying temples, “I have aged enough to look like Strange and I can’t pull all-nighters like I used to. It’s technically Sunday, I think we can afford to grab a few hours.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Of course not.” Tony shook his head. “But watching you work away is making me even more tired. Come on, if you stay the night I’ll make you breakfast and we can get this finished before lunch. I already have a bed made up on your floor.”

Peter’s grip tightened around a bunch of insulation, and he made himself let go of it before standing up. “I think I might go on patrol and head home, actually. Too much energy.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.” Peter walked towards the elevator. “I’ll see you a few hours before lunch and we can try to fit the Mark III into Barnes’ arm.”

“Alright. See you then.”

The elevator doors opened and Peter hesitated, not quite stepping in.

“You’re not going to tell me to hurry up and scram?”

“Right, right, of course. Go on, shoo.” Tony said quietly, and then added: “You won’t come in earlier for breakfast? I’ll make waffles.”

“I will need to sleep at some point.” Peter said as a goodbye, and slipped into the elevator. Tony looked like he was about to say something else but the elevator doors closed and Peter was whisked away.

 

 *******

 

The city, even this late at night, was bright and loud and Peter swung past it all to head to his slice of suburbia. The skyscrapers showered him with an artificial yellow glow that was enough to tell him where the buildings were, but street signs, antennae, power lines, they were all sudden surprises he had to keep his eyes peeled for. Luckily whenever obstacles were too dim for Karen to pick up, his spidey-sense filled in the gaps.

It took about a minute for the tall office buildings to drop away into small apartment complexes, and the noise and lights of the city centre went with them. Peter swung almost blind, low to the ground, relying on the brief but vivid splotches of neon glow to help him navigate.

It was a quiet night. He dealt with a couple of attempted muggings, one car-jacking, and, most interestingly, a group of guys trying to break into a university library. One of them scored a lucky hit with a knife that left him bleeding out his right ankle, which wouldn’t have been an issue if he’d worn the Iron Spider suit, but he very rarely wore it on patrols. As it was, he limped into his apartment and slumped into a kitchen chair with a weary sigh. Thankfully his apartment was a loft with direct roof access so he could get inside without dragging his damaged leg through a window.

Illuminated only by the blue moonlight, Peter leaned back and pulled a first-aid kit from the counter, and set to work cleaning and wrapping the wound on his ankle. Judging by the amount of blood, it would take two days, maybe three to heal completely. It didn’t feel like anything major was cut.

Peter sighed, and looked out his kitchen window.

The first time he got injured after moving into the Tower, Tony had dramatically raced him to the medical bay and patched him up himself. Peter had let him, slightly mortified, because the whole Thanos thing hadn’t ended that much earlier and it looked like something Tony needed to do. In fact, up until he moved out a week ago Peter always let Tony know when he got injured enough to require going to the med bay, because then Tony would come down and keep him company and bring a hot drink with him.

Tony hadn’t been the only one. When Peter caught something Bruce diagnosed as the ‘Peter Parker Flu’ that had left him bedridden for five days, Vision and Thor had kept him company. The whole team was there for him after the whole Mysterio debacle, and he’d been there for them whenever he could.

Peter chewed his lip and made a decision. He packed the first-aid kit away and resolved to make a very important call in the morning.

 

 *******

 

“You called me just to tell me that?” Shuri said. “I give you Kimoyo beads and this is what you use them for?”

“Shuri,” Peter replied, “You gave them to me to send me memes.”

“I am aware. I am also aware that telling me this story about cloves is not a meme. I would know.”

“It wasn’t about the cloves, it was about how I saved dinner even though I used garlic instead of the little flower things. I panicked, but then I handled it like a real adult.”

Shuri was quiet for a few seconds, her hologram’s eyebrows furrowed.

“You… are a real adult, Peter.”

“Well I am now, because I moved out and I fixed the microwave and I have a presentation on Wednesday”-

-“Please shut up for a few moments. Are you trying to prove to me that you’re a Real Adult? Do you think doing those things makes you one?”

“Doesn’t it? I mean, how else do you become one?”

Shuri smiled, and shook her head.

“Peter, you know I still live with my parents, right? And my brother?”

“But you live in a palace”-

-“It’s still the home I was born and raised in. Does that make me any less of an adult?”

“Well, no”-

-“And Thor is a real adult, is he not? Does he fix the microwave and give presentations?”

“He’s a child sometimes, but”-

-“Oh Peter,” Shuri said, “you’re only a year younger than me but you can be a real idiot sometimes, you know?”

“Oh really? How?”

“The only person who doesn’t think you’re a real adult is _you_.”

Peter blinked and opened his mouth-

-“And Mr Stark, probably, but I’d wager that is for different reasons.”

Peter shut his mouth. Shuri continued.

“Is that the real reason you called me up? For my wonderful advice slash common sense?”

Peter looked sheepish.

“Well, since MJ said she wouldn’t, I initially wanted to ask you to help me burn my apartment down…”

Shuri gave him a look.

“…But your advice is a much more mature and sensible option! Although”-

-“I’m not going to help you burn your apartment down just so you won’t have to ask Mr Stark to move in with him again.” Shuri said. “You know, you could always move to Wakanda and become _my_ lab partner”-

-“I’m not moving that far away from the Avengers.” Peter said. “But we’re still on for next month though, right?”

“Of course,” Shuri replied, “and when we meet up I want all the juicy details about how all this ends.”

“I’ll keep you updated,” Peter said as he pulled out his buzzing phone, “but I have to go, Avengers stuff. See you soon?”

“See you soon, Spider-boy.”

 

 *******

 

“So we found your mermaid,” Maria Hill said. MJ stood next to her with a tablet in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. She pulled a face at the scene in front of her. A few joggers, shop owners, and passer-by’s stood on the pavement a little way away as well, looking into Central Park with their phones raised.

“Can you get her to stop?” MJ asked.

“Why would you think I could get her to stop?” Peter said.

“I don’t know, you’re nice? The diplomatic, ask questions then shoot later part of SHIELD is fifteen minutes away. She’s not actually hurting anyone so we can’t do much.”

Peter swung to a nearby tree and watched the mermaid stomp her way through Central Park. She was the mermaid they suspected would come, Peter could tell, because of her unsteady gait, wet gills, and shiny green necklace around her neck.

What Peter was confused about was why she looked so _pissed off_.

“Ma’am, could you please not,” Peter said, as the mermaid pulled a tree out of the ground and threw it into a pond. Holy fuck. She was strong as hell.

“I think I will, actually,” The mermaid replied, “doesn’t feel too good, does it? Having your garden destroyed? Yeah I bet not!”

“Is that why you’re tearing up Central Park?” Peter said, “did something happen to your garden?”

“You know damn well what happened to my garden!”

It was at this point that Tony Stark pulled up in his armour.

“Aww, she’s wearing clothes,” Tony said. “regular… human… clothes. Lady, where did you get those clothes?”

“The mall on 43rd. Where did you get that hideous colour scheme?”

The suit managed to look offended.

“I bought them for her,” a woman’s voice called out from behind them. A bedraggled woman pushed her way through the crowd and approached the mermaid. “Babe, please. Come on,” she pleaded as the mermaid stomped through some flowers. “If I knew this was why you wanted to go to New York I wouldn’t have let you come.”

“Babe?” Tony said.

“Yeah, Tones?” Rhodey replied, landing next to Tony.

“You’re Kathy Crawford!” Peter said to the woman. “Everyone thinks you’re dead, by the way.”

Kathy rolled her eyes.

“And it would have _stayed_ that way if someone didn’t tear up Nitida’s garden with my slip-ring.” Kathy explained. “I shouldn’t have left it, but now the whole thing’s gone and I guess this is her revenge.”

The mermaid, or Nitida, ripped up another tree. “It took me two hundred years to get that moss to grow! Do you know how hard it is to grow moss without any sunlight?”

“Lady, please stop,” Rhodey said, and put a hand on her shoulder. He immediately retracted it when she swirled around, sharp teeth bared, and hissed at him. “Oh Jesus Christ that’s scary.”

“Wait,” Peter said to Crawford, “Did you say she lost her entire garden?”

Crawford nodded. “I bet it was my dumbass intern, McWilliam.”

“Yeah he tried to flood the city like a week ago, we got him. But do you think she’ll calm down if I give her some of her garden back?”

“Probably, but I don’t know where you’ll find any deep sea”-

-“I’ll be right back!” Peter zipped away towards his apartment.

“Not quite done here, Spiderman,” Tony said.

“Give me three minutes, tops!” Peter yelled back, and sped through the city.

Breathing heavily, he returned with a small aquarium in hand and presented it to the mermaid. Inside, the purple plant glowed and floated around.

“Excuse me, uh, Nitida?”

The mermaid glared at him, but then her expression softened when she saw the plant. She walked towards him and pressed her hands against the glass.

Peter continued. “This doesn’t make up for the loss of your garden, but I hope it makes a start. I’m really sorry about that idiot that tore through it with the slip-ring. If it makes you feel any better, we’ve got him locked up because of it. SHIELD,” he waved a hand at Maria Hill and MJ, “and I will help restore your garden, as long as you stop trying to tear up Central Park.”

Nitida deflated a little and looked Peter in the eyes, blinking slowly.

“I accept your terms. I think I quite like the way you handle things on the surface. And the perpetrator is suffering as recompense for their crimes?”

“Yes, SHIELD’s making his life miserable with paperwork and fines.”

Crawford came over and wrapped her arm around Nitida’s waist. “Aww, looks like little Rifty survived the teleportation!”

“Rifty?” Peter said.

“ _Riftia Pachyptila_ , a type of deep sea worm. A special one, because this one glows in the dark.”

“Oh? _Worm?_ ”

“Yeah. Most of Nitida’s garden was comprised of worms, snails, moss, that sort of thing. Things she could get to grow without sunlight.”

Peter fought to keep his face neutral behind his mask.

“…Right, well, here you go,” he passed the tank over to Nitida.

Tony walked over to them while Rhodey fished a tree out of the pond. More SHIELD operatives arrived on the scene and tried to get the crowd to disperse.

“You solved everything here?” Tony asked.

Peter looked at Nitida and Crawford.

“Yes, I won’t do any more harm to your Central Park. I think I may have acted without… thinking it all the way through.” Nitida said.

Crawford kissed her cheek. “You’re a dumbass, babe.”

“I’m not the smart one, you’re meant to be the smart one.”

A butterfly landed on the root of an upturned tree.

“You know,” Nitida said, “Up here on the surface isn’t so bad… Kat’s descriptions didn’t quite do it justice.”

“Oh, hush up.”

“So, uh,” Tony cut in, “if you’re done destroying Central Park, are you thinking about heading back to the ocean?”

“I want to stay a little longer.” Nitida said. “At least, until I get my garden back from this SHEILD.”

“I can give you a place to stay!” Peter said quickly. “I mean, everyone thinks Crawford’s dead so her house must’ve been sold…”

“I’m sure The Ancient One can give us a room in the Sanctum,” Crawford said. “And hopefully my sling-ring back.”

Peter sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“I think you should take Spiderman’s offer,” Tony said. “His apartment has roof access where you could grow your own surface garden in the meantime, if you’d like.”

“Are you sure? We wouldn’t want to impose”-

-“It’s fine, really.” Peter said, and cast a glance at Tony. “I hated living there alone. You can keep a little bit of distance between yourselves and SHIELD, I bet they’ll want that necklace, and I have a better gig waiting for me.”

Crawford smiled at Nitida. “Then yes, I think we can try that.”

Rhodey approached Crawford. “I’m happy for you and all, sorting all this out, but I can’t believe you faked your death just to go live with a mermaid.”

Nitida brush a wet lock of black hair out of Crawford’s face, and she responded with a quick peck on the lips. “Have you seen her arms, War Machine? Wouldn’t you do the same? She tore those trees out of the ground like they were nothing. That wasn’t the necklace’s doing.”

Rhodey, begrudgingly, had to agree.

 

 *******

 

Peter dropped a box on his desk in his old bedroom, and looked out the window. A very familiar city view stared back at him.

He heard a racing pulse, footsteps, and then a knock on the doorframe.

“Knock knock.” Tony said, casual as ever. “I bring a housewarming gift.” In his hand was a stack of papers and sitting on top of them was a small succulent covered in purple flowers.

“It’s called Pigface, and the flowers might match that purple kitchen chair,” Tony said, rambling a little, “not that I want to impose on your space or anything, just that you gave away your other plant worm thing and you said you wanted plants so”-

-“It’s great Tony, thank you.” Peter took the succulent and set it down on his desk. “And you’re not imposing, you know that, it’s your Tower”-

-“But it’s not what you wanted, you should have moved in with Clint or Stephen”-

Peter pulled Tony into a tight hug. Now that he was twenty two, they stood at the same height. Maybe, even, Peter was a little bit taller.

“I’m right where I want to be, Tony.” Peter said. “I did the whole ‘moving out’ thing, fixed some broken appliances, gave my house away to a pair of lesbians who needed it more…” Peter trailed off.

“That’s why I brought these, actually.” Tony tossed the stack of papers on top of the box Peter dropped on his desk. “It’s the lease for this floor. If you want, I can sell it to you. We can do a trade, your loft for this floor.”

Peter grabbed them and flicked through the sheets. “You’ll let me own the entire floor? Like, own-own?”

“Yep. And you can pay for your own utilities, and your own insurance and fees and whatever. If you want a space that’s entirely legally yours, well, there’s one here for you.” Tony smiled, then spoke in a quieter voice. “You’re an adult now, I get that. I’ve been so lucky to get to watch you grow up into the wonderful person you are.”

“Tony…”

“And I know you deserve to be treated as such, which I’m really trying to do, but it’s hard sometimes.” Tony took a deep breath. “In front of me I see someone so much better and stronger than I was at your age, but at the same time I see the little fifteen year old on Titan who…”

Peter gave him another hug, one where he could bury his head into Tony’s shoulder and hide his face. He felt Tony’s hand in his hair. “…who I couldn’t do enough for.” Tony finished. “But you don’t need me anymore, Pete.”

“I don’t need you to watch me like a hawk, or drive me places, or make sure I’m sleeping,” Peter said. “But I’m always going to need _you_ , Tony.”

They broke apart, and Peter saw tears in Tony’s eyes.

“And you’re always going to be my kid, alright? Even when you’re ninety.”

“And that would make you, what, a hundred and thirty?”

“Of course. But I won’t look a day over eighty. Maybe at that age I could finally retire.”

“Do you think Pepper would ever let that happen?”

“She would have retired sixty years before and wouldn’t care at all.”

“What a Big Mood.”

Tony scoffed. “Now you’re making me feel old.”

“You do that to yourself when you talk about retiring.”

Tony shook his head and picked the succulent back up. “Can I help you unpack?”

“Only if you’re fine with being my assistant.”

“Just tell me where you put all the lab stuff, kiddo.”

“In the hallway, old man.”

“Oh, you wound me,” Tony said with mock exaggeration.

“Just your ego!”

“I’ll rip your lease up before you even sign it, watch me.”

Peter laughed, plucked the succulent from his hands, and placed it by a window in the kitchen. He spun it a little, gently, so it would catch the most light, and left to join Tony with the boxes in the hallway.

 

~*******~


End file.
